


by the power of Azarath, I beseech you.

by ellipsesarefun



Category: Justice League vs. Teen Titans (2016), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Near Death Experiences, a few scenes of murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:34:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24144466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellipsesarefun/pseuds/ellipsesarefun
Summary: AU where Raven and Damian meet when they were way younger during unexpected and horrifying situations.
Relationships: Raven & Damian Wayne, Raven/Damian Wayne
Comments: 13
Kudos: 68





	by the power of Azarath, I beseech you.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Was supposed to be for damirae week but it turned into something else... so... here you go...  
> Warnings on death and murder

_I only wanted to know who my father was. I didn't mean to.. I didn't mean to open the portal... I only wanted a peak.. He said I could have a peak... To see who I was inside..._

Raven feels her body tremble at Trigon's fires of hell blasted through the helpless cries of Azarath's people.

_He said he would spare you all.. I'm so sorry.. I didn't think.._

That was right. He did say he would spare them. He said he was her father and because of that he loved her. He promised. She believed him. But alas, she realizes now that demons only play their wicked strings over children who’ve only knew the world through their elders and spellbooks.. who’ve only seen the wonders of magic with an immense curiosity.. And such curiosity can be manipulated and turn against themselves. 

_Mother of Azarath, I beseech you..._

“Raven..” She looks down and her eyes find the horror, and maybe morbid understanding, in her mother’s eyes. She parts her lips to call out the only remaining person in her life but not a single sound was uttered as the fires engulfed the last remains of her mother’s loving face. Raven tries again and still not a single word was chokes out of her lungs. Her whole body shivered in terror. For a moment, she felt her heart tighten, as though constrained by her own fear. 

_Mother of Azarath, I beg your forgiveness..._

Her legs give in to the weight and she kneels, turning her head towards the sky. She notices a flash of white light shimmering through the ominous grey clouds. Maybe somewhere, there lies a paradise.. Maybe she was out of her mind but she has to take a chance..

_Mother of Azarath, I beseech you.. give me strength!_

She concentrates on the silver lining etched on the sky and utters.

_Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos!_

\---

_Almost there. Almost there. Almost there._

He was barely past half of the mountain, but his small body persevered. He still has food from last night’s hunt and there’s still enough water for a day. He broke his arm along the way but it will heal soon, he says. His muscles burned against the frosty winds of the mountain and his boots sunk into the deep sea of snow but still he holds on.

_This is training. This is for the League of Assassins. This is my calling. What I’m meant for._

From the day he was born, his grandfather never let him forget that Damian is an al Ghul. He was, still is, meant for something greater. That someday he can lead humanity to greatness. Ra’s al Ghul, reminded him it won’t be easy but a thousand battle scars is worth the future they envisioned for him. 

But at what cost? What worth is ruling a nation when his body is failing to accommodate the harsh winds? When the hands of death are near, biding their time till his soul plunges into the abyss? His body is meant to be a weapon. His body is destined for destruction. He’s brought into this world for a greater purpose! He must survive this! Failure isn’t an option! It never was, it never is, and it never will be. 

_I must survive.. For the Demon’s Head. For the League of Assassins!_

The next checkpoint is only some meters ahead. He feels his lungs explode as he tries to grasp for breath. He ignores the sting from his head and focuses on his steps, not keeping count on how many they are but on how he’s still moving. He needs to move, move, move. He must not allow himself to be so easily dispensable!

_Almost..._

Suddenly, everything is swirling around him that he can’t see the checkpoint straight ahead. He can’t feel the hollowness in his lungs.. 

_Almost there.. Mother.. Grandfather.. Someone.._

Damian falls to his knees and his body begs him to lay down, screaming in pain, and he relents, letting the snow engulf him as the last thing he sees is a flash of something white. Not the snow white, but something ethereal altogether.

_An angel, perhaps?_

He reaches out to the white and finds purple eyes.

And then darkness.

\---

She doesn’t know how or why but white is the first thing that’s shoved onto her face. Raven lifts her head and looks around. The snow and harsh winds was all she could see going in an upward slope. 

_A mountain? Why here? Where is here?_

Bewildered, she pushes herself out of the snow and allows her psychic senses to scan her surroundings. This was probably one of the places where Trigon was once summoned. 

_The ancestors must have worshipped him here.._

She jumps when the essence of Hell tickles her skin. A portal must be close by. If she hurries now, maybe she could spare the world from her own destruction. Hell could keep her away from this place, still seemingly innocent from Trigon’s flames. 

She hears a thump on the ground and she looks down, alarmed at the site of lone boy buried in the snow. For the second time today, she kneels, sensing only a brush of life against her psychic aura. She pauses, feeling three human psychic auras close by but not close enough to reach him in time. This boy clad in battered clothes with a sword in his hands looks around her age. 

_Mother of Azarath..._

She doesn’t know why but she’s compelled to save this stranger. It does not atone for her failure, but at the very least, maybe she could salvage a life amongst the lives she could not protect. She presses her hands to his icy cheeks, feeling the warmth of her magic. Her soul brushes against the barrier of his own and suddenly she receives flashes. Born by what seems to be a nation of people who kill people, this boy was raised to be their king.. their leader... such a child to be placed into such high regard... such a child to be pressured into the harsh grasps of reality at such a young age... Why would someone do that..?

_By the powers of Azarath, I beseech you..._

She hasn’t tried this spell but maybe there’s a chance... A small breath of hope..

And so she prays, as her magic flows throughout his veins, his organs, his soul... It envelopes him, almost like a blanket. She prays that he be free of such hardship. That he find people who would love him and care for him like his so called blood family wouldn't. She prays of a light inside his heart would shine against his corrupted soul and fly to greater pastures. 

_Mother spirit of another realm, protect this stranger and give him and me the strength to face whatever dark forces that are coming_...

And then she hears a cough and a steady heartbeat. She releases her hands and watches her magic take a form of shield around his body. A figure of a raven appears on top of his head, pecking at his cheek. Her protection spell worked. For the first time, she feels her lips curve into a hopeful smile as the stranger’s eyelids gradually open, enraptured by the green pupils against the snow. 

A growl came from the distance, breaking her away from her small bubble of fascination and calmness. She stands up and without looking back, opens a portal to Hell and hurries out of the lands of Earth, leaving only a prayer.

\---

_Mother of Azarath, I beseech you to protect this stranger... for whatever obstacle there may be.._

He doesn’t remember much of that encounter nor how he ended up at the foot of the mountain unscathed. His task is complete and has now ascended to a level higher from before. His missions have become far harsher, but not as harsh as the kiss of death he experienced in the mountain. 

This might have been the delusion but even without her presence, he feels her energy inside him, a constant beat with his pulse. Angel or not, he thanks her for saving his life. Somehow, this won’t be last time he’ll meet her.

After all, the bonds of magic weigh far more than the bonds of blood.

**Author's Note:**

> crossposted from Tumblr.. find me @ellipsesarefun


End file.
